


Nettled

by bookscorpion



Series: Changing of the Light [6]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: Anal Sex, Caning, D/s relationship, M/M, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-30 10:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17826971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: To his horror, Duncan sees the nettles hovering right over his cock. He looks up at Rhys, wide-eyed and fearful, and knows he cannot expect mercy.Smutty two-parter!





	1. Chapter 1

Duncan waited. Naked, on his knees and blindfolded, he was not comfortable in the slightest. He shivered. It was pure nerves, the temperature didn't have anything to do with it. He had fucked up badly last time and now he would face the punishment for it. He didn't know what was going to happen and he fidgeted uneasily. With nothing else to do but wait in the darkness behind the blindfold, the memories came back to him in vivid detail.

  


* * *

  


He doesn't give a thought to the plant on Rhys' nightstand, it's unremarkable and it's not unusual for Rhys to keep plants there. He had asked earlier what it was and Rhys had told him that it's a weed with medicinal properties. Good for tea and rashes. And that had been the end of that.

Now, stretched out on the bed, hands above his head and eyes closed, there's the snip of scissors, followed by a strange, green smell. It's sharp but not unpleasant. So the plant isn't there just for decoration. He doubts this will end in tea. 

The mattress dips when Rhys climbs back onto the bed, sits at Duncan's side. The touch on his arm isn't unpleasant, a bit rough at the most, and he wonders why Rhys is using the plant. His question is answered when the touch suddenly becomes agonising, the bite of tiny needles into his skin. Heat spreads in their wake and brings out an intense itch.

Duncan jerks his arm away, sits up, too shocked to keep his eyes closed. 'What the hell, Rhys, is that poison ivy?!' He doesn't know much about plants but this he does know. There's already a rash on his arm, white round welts on deep red. He wills himself not to touch it. The pain and itching gets more intense and he can almost feel the poison spread.

'What? Where would I even get poison ivy here?' Rhys almost drops the leaves in surprise at Duncan's reaction. He puts a hand on Duncan's arm, avoids touching the rash. 'It's stinging nettle and it's harmless, I promise. The rash will be gone tomorrow, or I can take it away. Do you want me to stop?' 

A closer look at the plant and Duncan notices the _needles_ on the leaves. No plant should have needles, he feels, but he settles back down, puts his hands over his head again. 'It's okay.' He glares at Rhys. 'Good for rashes...you are such a bastard.'

Rhys grins. 'You have no idea how hard it was not to laugh. I really expected you to know what it is and when you didn't, I couldn't help but make it a surprise.' He leans in and kisses Duncan, leaving the taste of cardamom on his lips.

Duncan growls. 'Of course you couldn't.' The thought of where Rhys plans to touch him with those leaves is worrying. Scary, if he is perfectly honest. But he closes his eyes again and tries to relax. He can't resist the rush of letting Rhys hurt him. He imagines himself helpless, captive. Forced to suffer at Rhys' mercy because he has no choice. Trying his best to hold onto his dignity and failing. His will slowly breaking as his body turns traitor on him, finds pleasure in the pain. 

It's exactly as painful as he expected as the nettle is dragged down his sides and up his stomach again. Not every touch results in a sting and that makes it worse. It would be easier if the pain was continuous, but there's always the little hope that it's over now and then it isn't. He squirms and a moan escapes him.

He gets a break when Rhys bends over him to lick his nipples until they're hard. It's a welcome distraction until the nettle stings him there, too. Rhys drags the leaves in a careful circle around the nipples, waits a moment and then delivers a sting right to the middle. He gives it a second, sucks on the nipples again. The pain is white hot and Duncan whimpers. 

The older stings are less painful by now but the itch is maddening. Every single welt prickles and burns, competing for attention with all the others. Every new sting comes with such intense pain that it pushes the itching into the background. Duncan cannot decide which he prefers. 

The area around his nipples is swollen and tender to the slightest touch. Sharp tiny needles pierce the taut skin. It takes all of Duncan's self-control not to cry out, to keep his eyes closed. 

Rhys gets off the bed to undress and Duncan is grateful for the small pause. When Rhys comes back, he sits on Duncan's legs, leans forward until he can grind his hard cock against Duncan's. Duncan raises his hips to answer the pressure and shivers. It doesn't take much to make him helpless with lust after a month of frustration. A month of being brought to the edge again and again, only to be abandoned there. He almost forgets about the pain and the itch over the promise of relief.

Several stings at once remind him, grouped closely together on his hip. His flinch rubs his cock against Rhys' and he would love to use the pleasure as a distraction. But he doesn't dare to. 

Rhys changes his position, leaving Duncan's cock out in the open. He traces the outline of it on Duncan's stomach with the nettles, a trail of fire on tender skin. Duncan doesn't dare move, the threat of having his cock nettled enough to make him freeze. 

'You can open your eyes, but you better keep still.' Rhys shifts a bit. 

To his horror, Duncan sees the nettles hovering right over his cock. He looks up at Rhys, wide-eyed and fearful, and knows he cannot expect mercy. Rhys flicks a finger against one swollen nipple and Duncan sucks in air. He manages not to flinch. 

'Well done. I think the work we've done on your self-control is starting to pay off.' Rhys puts the nettles down and Duncan tries not to look too obviously relieved. He's pretty sure he fails. All over his body, his skin feels stretched and itchy. Rhys softly touches the rash on Duncan's sides and the itching gets much worse. 

'Close your eyes again, I'll be right back.' Rhys gets up. Once he's off the bed, Duncan loses track of him. The freezer in the kitchen opens. Ice cracks and clinks against glass. 

Duncan shifts nervously on the bed. He's dying to scratch himself although he knows it won't help. The spots where Rhys touched him are painfully hot. 

He misses Rhys coming back into the room. His only warning is the sound of the ice cubes clinking against each other in a bowl. Immediately after he hears it, the bowl is upended over his cock and Duncan tries to scream. He suddenly has no breath left and the scream is merely a shocked gasp. There's no question of keeping still or keeping his eyes closed, it's all he can do not to simply curl up. His cock goes limp in an instant and tries to crawl into his body. 

Rhys leisurely gathers the ice back up into the bowl, patting Duncan's cock with a freezing hand. 'It's not like you're going to use it today.' A last ice cube remains and Rhys drags it over Duncan's cock. 'How many more days until you're allowed to come?'

As if he didn't know exactly. 'Tw-.', Duncan catches himself at the last moment. 'As many as you say.'

'Mhm. Two, then.' Rhys slides the ice over Duncan's sides. It helps with the itch, for a few seconds. The ice circles Duncan's nipples and he keens. It turns into a gasp when Rhys licks up the water, sucks on each nipple in turn while holding the ice to the other. Rhys' tongue burns against his skin and the ice does the same. 

When the cube is almost gone, Rhys lets it slip down Duncan's chest and grabs a new one. He cups Duncan's balls with it, eliciting another gasp. 

Duncan starts to shiver. 'Please, I need a break.' His voice is shaky, his teeth clenched to keep them from chattering. 

Rhys takes the ice away and starts to lick away the water droplets on Duncan's skin. He works his way up from Duncan's cock and balls over his stomach to his neck. When he's done, he lies down next to Duncan, pulls him into a hug. Duncan wraps his arms around him and lets Rhys warmth seep into him. He slowly relaxes while Rhys nibbles on his neck, holds him close. Neither of them move for a while.

  


* * *

  


Duncan shifted, trying to take the stress off of his knees. He'd been allowed a pillow, but it was still uncomfortable. Rhys was moving in the living room, but Duncan couldn't tell what he was doing. He had lost track of how long he had been waiting. Remembering what happened last time filled him with dread and excitement in equal parts. His cock was growing hard and Duncan cursed silently. There was no way Rhys would leave that uncommented and Duncan would be lucky if sharp words were all he got for it. But he still couldn't stop losing himself in the memory.

  


* * *

  


Rhys eventually pushes himself up, rolls on top of Duncan. 'Do you feel better?' He runs his fingers through Duncan's hair, delaying his answer with a kiss. 

'I do.' Duncan looks up at him, hands on Rhys' sides, and raises his hips up to feel Rhys' cock. His own still isn't over the shock of the ice, but it's getting there. The itching has died down a bit, enough that he doesn't have to keep from scratching himself all the time. But he still gives a loud moan when Rhys sucks on his nipples. The touch is enough to make them hurt immediately. He doesn't even want to think about how it would feel on his cock.

When Rhys orders him to turn over, he's relieved. He watches Rhys take the lube out of the nightstand and cut some more nettles. The skin on his back starts to crawl at the thought of getting touched with the leaves. But it's a sacrifice he's willing to make if it means his cock will stay out of it. At least he hopes it will work out that way.

Rhys settles behind him, pushes Duncan's legs apart to kneel between them. Duncan winces when something touches his ass, but there's no pain. He realises Rhys just put the nettles down while he is busy with the lube. A finger drags over Duncan's entrance, spreading lube, circling it, pushing in very slowly. 

Duncan could relax and enjoy it, but the threat of the nettles remains. Still, he moans softly when Rhys starts to fuck him, at an excruciatingly slow pace. It leaves him wanting more. A second finger enters him. It's still not enough. He wants Rhys' _cock_.

He has not been allowed to fuck Rhys, has been made to pleasure him with his mouth and hands instead. Rhys has made him stroke himself almost to completion, only to tie him down and leave him, cock throbbing painfully. A few times, Rhys has fucked him, taking his pleasure from Duncan. Made him beg to be used.

Now, he stops fucking Duncan, his fingers pushed halfway into him. He picks up the nettles and drags them over Duncan's ass, just touching. 'Fuck yourself on my fingers.'

Duncan raises his hips, Rhys' fingers sliding into him. He tries to keep the same slow pace as Rhys. Every move rubs his cock against the mattress and he starts to grow hard again.

The nettles bite into his back, leaving a wide path of burning skin. The path ends between his shoulder blades, comes back down again to his ass. He starts fucking himself harder and faster, his breathing ragged. Rhys' fingers push into him, sometimes grazing his prostate, giving him a rush of pleasure. He tries to avoid it nonetheless, but it's hard. It's made even harder when Rhys nettles his ass and thighs, poisoned needles piercing tender skin. 

His cock is hard now, the friction from the sheets and his rutting creating a warm glow in his stomach. He knows he should stop, but he can't resist going a little further. Just a bit more.

Rhys pulls his fingers away, makes Duncan whine. 'Get your ass up. On your knees, keep your head down.'

Duncan flinches when Rhys touches his cock, gives it a squeeze. 

'Do you want me to make you come?' Rhys drags his fingertips over the head of Duncan's cock, plays with the foreskin. The touch is almost shocking in its casual intimacy. Rhys had made Duncan touch himself but has kept his hands mostly off of Duncan's cock for the past month. 

Duncan can't help but thrust into Rhys' hand. He moans and thrusts harder when Rhys drags the nettle between his ass cheeks. The soft skin starts to prickle and itch immediately, the prickles building into a continuous sharp pain. 

He almost forgets to answer. 'Please, make me come... I need to come, please make me!' He means every word and doesn't care how he sounds. The part of him that still clings to his pride is horrified by his grovelling. 

'I think you can wait two more days. But since you asked so nicely, I am going to fuck you.' Rhys takes his hand away, spreads Duncan's ass and drags the nettles over the same spot until Duncan cries out. Fingers push into him again, fucking him for a couple of thrusts. The pleasure is tempered with pain, the skin sensitive to every touch. 

Duncan gets a moment to breathe while Rhys lubes up his own cock. He arches his back to present his ass. 'Thank you, Sir.'

Rhys pushes his cock into him, holding his hips. It hurts when Rhys' hands and his cock touch the nettle rash. As if the tip of the needles, stuck in Duncan's skin, get pushed even deeper, spreading more poison. Then Rhys starts to fuck him and pleasure rolls over Duncan, making him shudder. There's pain with every thrust but it only heightens his lust. 

Duncan can't resist fucking back into Rhys and Rhys lets him. He fists the sheets, his cock neglected and twitching. His nipples rub over the sheets every time Rhys thrusts into him and it makes him cry out. He tries to prop himself up to get away from the pain, but Rhys has other plans. He pushes Duncan forward with his full weight until Duncan is stretched out under him. 

Rhys changes position, runs his hand over Duncan's back and sides, fingers tracing the welts of the rash. It makes Duncan whimper and Rhys fucks into him hard enough to take Duncan's breath away. His cock is pressed against the mattress, gets all the friction it needs between the fabric and his body. Warm tension builds deep inside him and he wants it so badly. Wants Rhys to fuck him until he comes. But he is not allowed to and so he begs. 

'Please, I'm gonna come, please stop. Please, don't make me come- Please, Sir!' Duncan's last words end in a drawn out cry and he ruts into the bed sheets as his orgasm takes him. He has no more thoughts to spare for what will happen after, he just lets himself fall over the edge.

Rhys fucks him through it, gasps as Duncan's muscles squeeze his cock. It doesn't take long until he comes, his movements frantic. He collapses on top of Duncan, shaking all over, panting. 

It takes a while for them to shake off the drowsiness, to do more than just lie there and breathe. Rhys idly pets Duncan's arms and neck, avoids the areas with the rash. Eventually, he gets up and makes Duncan turn over, exposing the cum smeared over the sheets and Duncan's stomach.

'Would you care to explain?' Rhys kneels between Duncan's spread legs, looks down at him expectantly. There is not a hint of a smile on his face.

'I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't control myself. To feel your cock in me...' A quick glance tells Duncan that the nettles are easily within reach and his limp cock shrinks even more. On his back like this, he's exposed and vulnerable and he knows he will get punished. A part of him is looking forward to it. 

'You don't have to tell me you're a slut, I'm well aware of that.' Rhys stares at him, lets him squirm. 'Anything else you wish to say?'

Being called a slut stings far worse than the nettles. And like the pain from the nettles, there's pleasure in it. _Slut._ Duncan tries it out in his own thoughts and finds he likes it. It fits what he imagines himself to be. Broken down by constant torture and humiliation, his will almost at its breaking point, he accepts it. 

'I'm sorry. I have no excuse.' He forces himself not to look away, not to look at the nettles. He meets Rhys' cold stare instead.

'I won't punish you today. It can wait.' _You can wait_ , that is what Rhys means and Duncan understands perfectly. The waiting is part of the punishment and he can already tell it will be miserable. 

Duncan nods. 'Thank you, Sir.'

And just like that, Rhys smiles, all the harshness gone from his face. He stretches out next to Duncan, kisses him deeply. 'How do you feel? Are you okay?'

Duncan rolls into his embrace, holds onto him tightly. 'I think so.' He takes a moment to think about it, to listen to what his gut tells him. 'Yeah. I'm okay. Fuck, I really wanted to make it. I really tried. But I - I think failing is more interesting.' He hasn't told Rhys about the fantasy he built around this and right now, he's a bit embarrassed by it. But he thinks maybe he should. Later.

  


* * *

  


Life had happened and they hadn't gotten around to playing for almost a week. But Duncan had tortured himself plenty with wondering what Rhys was going to do. Tonight, Rhys had left him an envelope with handwritten instructions. Duncan had read them carefully, puzzling his way through Rhys' copperplate script, and had followed them to the letter. Then he had waited.

His heart beat faster when the door opened. Rhys' steps were almost too quiet to hear, but Duncan sensed him in front of him. He obediently tilted his head back when something touched him under his chin. Something thin, hard and smooth. He couldn't tell what it was.

Rhys stepped behind him. 'You look gorgeous, on your knees like that. And you will look even better covered in bruises and cum once I'm done with you.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _'You look gorgeous, on your knees like that. And you will look even better covered in bruises and cum once I'm done with you.'_  
>  More nettle smut!

'You look gorgeous, on your knees like that. And you will look even better covered in bruises and cum once I'm done with you.' Rhys drags the tip of the cane over Duncan's shoulders, lightly taps his ass. He runs his fingers through Duncan's hair, pushing his head down. Blindfolded, Duncan tilts his head to the side as he tries to listen for Rhys' steps. 

Completing the circle, Rhys stops in front of Duncan again and nudges his hard cock with the cane. 'I see you are eager to start. What makes you think you'll get any use out of your cock today?'

Duncan blushes right to his ear tips. Rhys trails a fingertip over one ear, makes Duncan draw a sharp breath when he hits just the right spot. He does it again, so carefully he barely touches Duncan's skin. It raises every hair on Duncan's body.

Rhys grabs an ear tip, not quite twisting. Yet. 'Do I need to repeat my question?'

'No, Sir.' Duncan tenses, expecting pain that isn't coming. 'I hope that you will get some use out of my cock today. It's for your pleasure, not mine.'

Rhys smiles, his own cock very definitely stirring. He lets go of Duncan's ear, caresses it, traces his cheekbones and lips. Duncan turns his face into the touch, steals a kiss to Rhys' palm. The unashamed affection of the gesture makes Rhys' heart beat faster. It had taken a long time for Duncan to be so comfortable with showing how he feels.

'Get up.' He puts the cane on the bed to have both hands free. 

Duncan has to steady himself, his joints obviously stiff from kneeling so long. He stands with his legs apart, hands behind his back. Stepping closer, Rhys cups Duncan's balls, curls his fingers in the short, coarse hairs around Duncan's cock. He lets his hands wander up, palms ghosting over Duncan's hips and sides. He kisses the scar on Duncan's shoulder, skin healed over deep bite wounds Rhys himself had left. Seeing his mark on Duncan makes a thrill race through his body. 

'Follow me.' He takes one of Duncan's hands and slowly leads him to face the wall. 'Put your palms against the wall, spread your legs.'

Duncan is tense, his breathing no longer calm and measured. His composure is starting to slip.

Rhys picks up the cane, drags the tip up the inside of Duncan's leg. He presses it against Duncan's balls from below. Duncan's breathing stops for a second and he tenses up even more, an involuntary shiver running over him.

The cane smacks his ass and Duncan jumps, gives a loud yelp. He straightens, hands no longer in contact with the wall. 

'Get back into position. Now!' Rhys had been sure that no one has ever hit Duncan during sex before, let alone with a cane, and the shocked reaction tells him he is right. He taps Duncan's ass, makes him flinch. Duncan hurries to obey him.

The next stroke lands only a finger's breadth above the already swollen welt of the first one, the third below that. Rhys takes careful aim, places another slash across the back of Duncan's thighs.

He stops when Duncan's breath starts to hitch. 'How do you feel?' Duncan's muscles are trembling under Rhys' hands as he runs them over Duncan's shoulders and arms.

'I- don't know.' Duncan is quiet for a moment and Rhys watches him go somewhere in his head. He had seen him do the same thing last time and waits, one hand on Duncan's back to keep him grounded.

'I'm okay.' Duncan sounds calmer, has stopped shivering. 'I don't want to stop. I want this.'

'I'm glad to hear it.' Rhys places a kiss on Duncan's neck and another hard stroke on his ass, crossing the other ones diagonally. It starts to look very pleasing, deep red welts swelling up in stark contrast to Duncan's olive skin. Rhys works on creating a pattern for a while, grouping the strikes as closely together as he can. The only sounds that can be heard are the swish of the cane, the sharp crack of every impact and Duncan's deep breaths.

Sweat is running down Duncan's back and Rhys licks up a few drops from between his shoulder blades, savouring the salty taste. 'How many strokes?' The moment Duncan tries to answer, Rhys squeezes his ass. It turns Duncan's words into another loud yelp. 'Well? Don't tell me you don't know.' 

'Thirty.' Duncan surprises him with the correct answer.

'Very good! I can see I have left an impression.' Rhys traces the pattern. 'Do you think we are done? Should I maybe just have you bend over and fuck you right here?' Another squeeze makes Duncan whimper. Tiny droplets of blood start to seep out of the welts. 

'Please, fuck me. I want you!' Duncan gives his answer without thinking.

Rhys grins but keeps his voice harsh and cold. 'You _want_? Since when is what you want important in any way?' 

Three strokes in quick succession leave new marks on Duncan's thighs and he cries out. Two more land right on the most tender part of his ass. Duncan sucks in air. It's almost a sob.

Rhys stops the next stroke at the last moment. The cane lands softly on Duncan's ass, the gentle touch enough to make him flinch.

'So? Do you have anything to say?' A light tap reminds Duncan that he better puts some thought into his next words.

'I'm sorry, Sir.' Duncan has to clear his throat and Rhys is delighted to hear the slight waver in his voice. 'Of course it doesn't matter what I want. I forgot my place.'

The way Duncan holds his head tells Rhys he is listening for the swish of the cane. Rhys does him the favour, a stroke aimed at thin air, just to see Duncan flinch at the mere sound.

'Turn around.' Rhys lets Duncan wait for a moment while he puts away the cane. He steps close to him, noting with satisfaction that Duncan holds his hands behind his back without having to be told. 'You were doing so well. It's a shame that you still haven't learned to think before you speak.'

He lets his hands wander over Duncan's body, casually palming his limp cock. The caning has been a bit much for it, but that's not Rhys' problem. His hands slip around to Duncan’s ass, fingers running over the welts. The skin is hot to the touch and Duncan whimpers. 

When Rhys removes the blindfold, Duncan blinks in the sudden light. He doesn't dare to look up until Rhys pushes his chin up with two fingers.

'Go kneel on the cushion again until I have decided what to do with you.' Rhys doesn't smile, but gives Duncan's ear a little caress before he sends him on his way with a slap on the ass. Duncan's little groan of pain makes Rhys want to grab him, slam him against the wall and fuck him right then and there.

Instead, he hungrily watches as Duncan kneels and settles very gingerly on his ass with another moan. Rhys walks past him, trailing a hand over his shoulder, and undresses, taking his time.

When he is done, Duncan has started to fidget, both from nerves and from pain. He draws a deep breath when Rhys comes to stand in front of him, but doesn't look up until Rhys tells him to. The apprehension on his face is delicious.

'You get to suck my cock. If you do it well, I might forgive you for your insolence.' Duncan eagerly straightens up, but Rhys pushes him back down. 'I'm not finished. You can touch me, but not yourself. And you better see to it that your cock is hard by the time you're done, I might have a use for it.' He waits a second before nodding at Duncan. ' _Now_ you can start.'

Duncan gives him a worried look, but doesn't dare say anything. He starts by licking the length of Rhys' cock, running his hands over Rhys' thighs. Rhys moans when Duncan starts stroking the shaft, sucking on the tip, his tongue pressing into the groove on the underside. The urge to move, to fuck Duncan's mouth, is almost overpowering, but he fights to keep still for now.

Duncan works at taking him deep into his mouth. Rhys knows Duncan doesn't particularly enjoy this and the fact that he does it anyway makes Rhys shudder with lust. After gagging a few times, Duncan finds a comfortable way to take Rhys' cock and settles on a rhythm, licking and sucking. He keeps his hands busy caressing Rhys' thighs and balls, reaches around to grab Rhys' ass.

Rhys enjoys the warmth of Duncan's mouth and the way he swallows around Rhys' cock or at least tries to. A mix of drool and precum has started to trickle down Duncan's chin. He's breathing hard through his nose.

Rhys curls his fingers in Duncan's short mohawk. 'I think I may allow you to fuck me. Would you like that?' He watches Duncan trying to decide what will get him into less trouble, to stop and answer or not answer. 

In the end, Duncan settles on making a muffled but enthusiastic sound and sucking harder. Rhys decides it's the right answer, especially as Duncan manages to take him even deeper, starts to slide Rhys' cock in and out of his mouth in just the right way. 

It's threatening to become too much. Rhys can't keep from fucking into Duncan's mouth, hears him moan against the cock suddenly invading his throat. The moans become desperate, mix with gagging and gasps for air. The vibrations of the choked noises travel up Rhys' shaft right into his groin. But Duncan doesn't pull away, lets himself be used.

Rhys finally steps back. He wants Duncan to _fuck_ him, has missed it the whole last month, as much fun it has been making Duncan suffer.

Duncan sucks in a deep breath, swallows. He doesn't try to wipe the drool off his face. His cock is nice and hard, Rhys notes with a thrill of anticipation.

'You can kneel on the bed.' Rhys gets lube out of the night stand and cuts a few stalks of stinging nettle. Duncan can't take his eyes off of the plant as Rhys comes to sit across from him on the bed.

'I will let you fuck me, but you will get your cock nettled first and you will ask me to do it.' Rhys starts to stroke Duncan's cock, eliciting a loud moan. 'Or you _don't_ fuck me, I _don't_ nettle your cock and you won't get to come for another two weeks while I think of another way to punish you for last time.' His fingers gently squeeze the tip of Duncan's cock. 'It's your decision.'

Again, Duncan withdraws into his own head for a moment before he looks up into Rhys' eyes. 'Please, Sir, nettle my cock.' He is _scared_ , Rhys can see it in his eyes and in his tense posture, can hear it in his voice. But he spreads his legs wider and puts his hands on his back, exposing himself.

Rhys gently drags the nettles over Duncan's cock, in just the right way so they don't sting. He keeps it up for a few seconds, listening to Duncan's hurried breathing. Then he presses down and delivers the first stings along the shaft.

Duncan cries out, his breath hitching. Immediately, the welts start to appear, bloodless white against the flushed red skin.

'Does it hurt?' Rhys wants to hear Duncan say it. 

'Yes-', Duncan almost sobs. It gives Rhys a thrill to hear it out loud.

'Do you want me to continue?' Rhys gently strokes Duncan's cock. He knows very well that it will make the stings hurt even more and is rewarded with a flinch and a loud moan.

'Yes. Please, Sir, don't stop.' Duncan has closed his eyes. The muscles in his arms and legs are hard with tension and Rhys traces them, enjoys the slight shiver he can feel.

'Tell me why.' Rhys licks his fingertips and swirls them over the tip of Duncan's cock. Presses the nettles to it, hard. 'Tell me why you _want_ this.'

Duncan can't answer. He throws his head back with a choked howl. Rhys gives him a break, takes the nettles away and stops touching him.

Breathing hard, Duncan tries to string together a coherent sentence. 'Please, I want you to hurt my cock so I can fuck you!' A furious blush rises from his neck to his cheeks and ears and he keeps his head down, shamed by his own words.

Rhys gladly fulfills Duncan's wish, leaves a trail of welts along the underside of his cock. Strokes it a bit to make it itch, stings the tip again. 'Look at you, so eager to have your cock in me, you're begging for punishment. Keep begging. And look at me while you do it.' 

'Please, Sir, hurt me. I need this, don't stop, please-' Duncan has to fight to be able to talk. He only just manages to keep looking at Rhys. It's obvious he wants to look down, even close his eyes again every time the nettle pierces his skin. 

Rhys stops and rewards Duncan with a kiss. 'You're gorgeous when you're desperate.' The welts are badly swollen, little round bumps under his fingers as he strokes Duncan's cock. Duncan winces but at the same time cannot keep from rutting into Rhys' fist. Rhys lets him, after all he wants Duncan to remain fully functional.

He can't resist delivering one last trail of stings before he puts the nettles aside and lets himself fall on his back. 'Fuck me. You're allowed to come, but not before I do.'

After taking a moment to compose himself, Duncan grabs the lube, puts some on his fingers and his cock. Touching himself makes him wince again and he bites back a loud groan of pain. Rhys watches, drinking in every detail. The way Duncan's skin is flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. The way he moves, carefully and obviously in pain. The way he looks at Rhys, with a mix of reverence and lust.

Duncan is gentle with him, takes his time. Maybe more than he strictly needs to, but Rhys can forgive him such delicious teasing. He idly strokes his own cock as Duncan slowly fucks one, then two fingers into him, works him open.

Lost in the pleasure , Rhys whines when Duncan pulls his fingers out. But he doesn't have time to actually complain before he's filled again, Duncan's cock hot and hard inside him. Rhys keeps still, taking in every little noise of pain and pleasure Duncan makes. He waits until Duncan has entered him fully and tenses up, his muscles squeezing Duncan's cock. It makes Duncan almost reflexively pulls out, but he controls himself, shuddering through the pain.

When Rhys relaxes again, Duncan starts to fuck him. Slowly at first, but soon he falls into a faster rhythm. The pleasure still doesn't outweigh the pain - Rhys can see it in the way Duncan keeps flinching, hear it in his voice when he moans and sucks in air. 

Rhys pulls Duncan down on top of him and reaches around to grab his ass, hard. 'Stop holding back and _fuck_ me!'

Duncan cries out and speeds up, desperate to escape the pain. Rhys doesn't allow him to, his hands on Duncan's ass squeezing every time Duncan tries to slow down. 

He can't keep it up, it's been too long since Duncan fucked him and the intensity of it is overwhelming. The hardness of Duncan thrusting into him and how he is almost sobbing with the pain pushes Rhys right over the edge. He bucks under Duncan, trying and failing to hold on for a bit longer. 

Duncan fucks himself to his orgasm, with enough force to take Rhys' breath away. Finally, Duncan collapses on top of him, pulls out with a last whimper and stops moving. Still gasping, Rhys nudges him to one side so he can catch his breath. 

Rhys nestles into Duncan's arms and relaxes, at least until the cum slowly leaking out of him and trickling down his side becomes unpleasantly cold and itchy. 'Hey, what do you say we grab a shower and some ice for your cock? And I better disinfect some of those cuts. Unless you want them healed?'

'Don't you dare.' Duncan growls softly, with his most impressive threatening glare. He pulls Rhys towards him, simply picks him up and carries him to the bathroom. Rhys gasps again at this effortless display of strength and holds on to Duncan.

After their shower, they are lying in bed, Rhys' head on Duncan's chest. He sits up so he can look at Duncan. 'I want to ask you something. You go somewhere when things get tough when we play. It's like you aren't quite there for a bit before you come back to me and tell me to keep going. What's happening there?'

Duncan blushes ever more furiously than he did before. He can't meet Rhys' gaze. 'Promise me you won't make fun of me. But when I do that, I imagine I'm your prisoner. Your— slave. It helps. Imagining I have no choice.' 

Rhys would rather die than laugh at this. The intimacy of this confession is stunning to him. Duncan rarely indulges in fantasies or if he does, he doesn't talk about it much. He takes a moment to think about his answer. While he thinks, he keeps caressing Duncan's chest, gently pulling on the little cluster of hairs there.

'Do you want to explore that fantasy with me? Because if you ask me, I would love to. It's incredibly hot.' Rhys can think of so many things they can do.

Duncan doesn't answer for long enough that Rhys gets worried. But when he does, he sounds much less hesitant, looks Rhys in the eyes before he kisses him. 'I would like that very much.'

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!


End file.
